Memory Reborn
by CluelessSpades
Summary: " Maybe I  shouldn't have dismissed it so quickly..." Vash finds yet another person he can relate to who's also connected to something buried in his past- Just like any other Trigun episode really! Warning: Various POV's may be used. Possible VxOC later.


_(( Hello all. This is my first Trigun fanfic and I really hope you'll enjoy it. The idea of my OC is original but full credit goes to Nightow who owns Trigun and who gave me my inspiration._

_As a note I want to say this part happens early in order to make an impact... And also to not conflict with the TV and manga series too much. == Hopefully it's not too cheesy!_))

After so many years of being alive ( 152 to be exact ) you realize you've got a lot of time to think. Think about life, people. Thinking about thinking even. Anything that comes to mind is there to freely tantalize your thought processes and imagination. It had been one of these free-flowing thoughts that made me recall my motivation for becoming the man I choose to become. No, no, no- not Vash the Stampede as for years I've been called. I mean just Vash. No Stampede or trailing terror and manslaughter.

Just me. Good ol' Vash.

I remember only 60 or so years after my brother and I divided I came across a town. It was a desolate little thing and probably identical to one miles away from it. As per-usual the first thing to greet me on the sand flooded streets was a tumbleweed and the sad, sighing buildings that were a weathered pastel hue.

Perhaps this town was abandoned for it was awfully quiet but I really wasn't one to poke around; more the one to wait until something bit me in the ass saying " Here I am!"

And that's exactly what happened. Except with less ass-biting and more trauma.

As I came into a clearing, a plaza I determined, a horrific scene unfolded before me. A scene practically radiating something dark and sinister. In the very dusty center of this plaza was a good amount of sturdy, 7 foot high stakes. Tied to these stakes were people. Or what used to be from what I could tell. Their bodies were mauled, but most were burned from the ground up. Burned and mauled, beaten and bashed, charred and bloody beyond recognition these bodies hung limply from the binds of rope cutting into their wrists, waists, and ankles. Though I had my fill of the sight I further inspected and noticed something about these murders; each one was so precise for the large number of victims, as if somebody had instructed their deaths specifically. And I realized this wasn't a mass-murder. No, too public. This was a crucifixion.

I was disgusted, saddened, angry. The smell of burnt flesh still seemed to hang in the dry air.

I knew very well what humans did to one another, Knives had pointed that out to me on several occasions thank you very much. But I had never witnessed anything so brutal. So flat out wrong and shameful. Persecuting in such a fashion.

I left the plaza silently, head kept low and a pair of fists in my ruby pockets. What a great way to start the day, eh? I knew there was nothing I could do now but maybe leave a prayer to whatever god or entity may be pitying these poor souls. There was no one around to ask what happened, no one for someone to place blame and punishment. Or even someone to hear a lengthy lecture about love and peace.

Somewhere in the depths of my mind I wondered if my own blood, my brother, had done this. But I whisked the idea away. This wasn't how he killed if experience itself hadn't taught me anything else.

There was no reason for me to stay in this place any longer, this town without a name or inhabitants-only grief and foreboding. However as if to keep me a second longer in its grasp the town offered a clue about the horror in its heart. A single paper fluttered and danced around my feet, seemingly out of nowhere. I lent down and took the paper blank side up in my hand, flipped it around, and saw it was a bulletin, and a very frantic one at that.

_BEWARE OF THE WITCHES! THEY DISGUISED THEMSELVES AS OUR OWN!_

_CAREFUL; THEY USE DARKMAGIC TO STUN THEIR VICTIMS!_

_CRIMES; THEFT, MURDER, ANY VILE DEED YOU CAN THINK OF!_

_( If you think you've seen or been attacked by a witch, report to the local sheriff.)_

_~ NEW FLORIDA'S TOWN COUNCIL_

My eyes grew wide. The pieces came together and what I witnessed in the plaza made painful sense. Somewhere I remembered one of Rem's many lessons about Earth's history,

" In early America, during the colonial times, people where claimed to be witches. Or mythical things, in other words. The accused people were not really witches but-"

I hadn't heard the term 'witches' since then.

So how could something from over two thousand years ago still hold dread over people on this planet? Such silly superstition...

The gloomy atmosphere hanging over me became heavier.

I let the breeze reclaim its parcel, the surprisingly crisp document swiped behind me. Though its departure didn't provide comfort from its message.

_BEWARE OF THE WITCHES-...!_

The bold, heavy ink print was tattooed into my eyelids, reappearing every time I blinked.

I had made my way to the gates on the opposite end of what I found out was New Florida, the trek not taking me long due to the lack of population. What a quick trip. My feet led me in what was the right direction but my mind wandered. I was adding this event to the inspiration propelling me through this world as odd as it may sound. I realized, that day, I not only had to protect the human race from my vicious brother but also from themselves. I could say that idea was introduced by Rem but its true confirmation was stamped into my morals in the plaza of New Florida. Something, ya' know, just clicked and I knew this is what I needed to do. To be alive for.

Being the nomad I was I went from place to place, never journeying back to that disturbed little town, not once. I didn't think I had to. I thought I already obtained what knowledge needed to be obtained there.

I thought I got the sign I was guided to.

And I left it at that. Yet little did I know that exceedingly important part of my life would pay me a visit 92 years later. A visit in the form of a girl and the mystery she was born from.

_(( So whadda you guys think? A good intro from Vash's POV? I wanna let you all know that /heavily/ hints the appearance of my OC in the next chapter.  
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_I know OC's don't get much lovin' but no one has ever met one of mine! n And don't worry, she's not made of the figment of my fangirlish mind; she's not there for the pure purpose of seducing Vash.  
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_Actually, I'm not sure if I even have any plans for romance with her. When it comes to that I would appreciate opinions. So R&R and lemme know what your thoughts are- on anything in this chapter and beyond! Maybe I need to add something? Get rid of it? Maybe some suggestions about the narrator(s) for future chapters? You tell me!  
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_Clueless Spades; out! )) _


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